


What Should Have Been

by LadyLindariel (Morwen80)



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 06:21:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15902628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morwen80/pseuds/LadyLindariel
Summary: The War of the Last Alliance has been won. The only thing to keep Sauron from returning is the destruction of the One Ring but can Isildur overcome the seduction of the Ring to destroy it or will Elrond have to destroy both in order to protect ME? AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little something that I conjured up a long time ago to help me get back into writing again. I often wondered why no one did this as it would have saved a lot of people in Middle-earth some grief. I hope you enjoy it.

The War of the Last Alliance had been won. For twelve long years, the Dark Lord Sauron had afflicted the lands of Middle Earth. Now, it was finally finished. With the deaths of so many innocent heroes such as Gil-galad and Elendil who fought to ultimately destroy Sauron himself, peace could finally be restored to Middle Earth. Just one thing stood in the way of securing peace for good: the destruction of the One Ring. As long as the Ring remained, Sauron would be able to return. The only thing to prevent him was for the Ring to be thrown into the pits of Mount Doom itself where it had been forged long ago.

Elrond walked swiftly over to Isildur who had struck the fatal blow to the Dark lord by cutting the Ring off his finger with his fallen father's sword Narsil. No longer bound to the Ring, Sauron's spirit had fled thus freeing Middle Earth from his evil clutches. Elrond was closely watching the young adan who was holding the One Ring in his hand, staring at it like a new-found treasure, and the raven-haired warrior knew that time was of the essence. He knew that the Ring was treacherous and that the longer it was allowed to remain, the greater the risk of it seducing the minds of those who held it; especially those of men, bending them to its will allowing Sauron to rise to power once more.

"Isildur, follow me, quickly!" Elrond ordered, beginning to speedily make his way to the entrance of Mount Doom where the Ring would hopefully be destroyed forever.

Looking at Elrond reluctantly, Isildur eventually did as he commanded, following him from a short distance. Even now the Ring was beginning to work its dark magic against the new king and Isildur was slowly falling under its power.  _Why am I following this elf? I am king now, and with this ring of power I will be able to protect my people forever._  His thoughts becoming darker, more resentful, with each passing moment.

Nevertheless, he continued following Elrond, each step seeming to be harder than the next one. It was almost as if the Ring was becoming heavier, weighing him down, slowing his progress on the long trek up. If Isildur didn't know any better, he would have thought that the Ring knew the intentions of both Elrond and himself. The intention to destroy it. Finally, entering the cavern ahead of him, Isildur saw standing at the ledge waiting for him, Elrond.

Elrond heard the young king enter and, unbeknownst to Isildur, felt the internal struggles that he was having regarding the Ring. It was just as he feared, the Ring was already taking hold of his mind, bending it to its will. He knew it would eventually happen but he hadn't thought it would be so soon. Elrond had come to the painful decision on the way up that if it came down to it, he would do anything it took to make sure that the Ring was destroyed today; even if it meant the slaying of his brother's kin in the process. He would not allow Middle Earth nor its people to once again suffer at the hands of Sauron.

Looking in his dark eyes, he saw that Isildur was losing control over his own mind and willpower. Soon it would be very difficult if not impossible to make him willingly destroy the One, but throw it in he would; one way or another.

"Isildur, cast it into the fire! Destroy it!"

The young Gondorian king heard Elrond in the distance. He wanted to throw it in for he did not like the feeling he was getting the longer he held onto this Ring. It was as if it was controlling him, whispering to him to leave. Slowly Isildur approached Elrond. Yes, he would destroy it, he would rid Middle Earth from the last remnants of the Dark Lord forever. Hesitantly he put his hand out to toss it into the fire; but just as he was about to let it fall from his hand into the cracks below, he recoiled as though he had been burned.

What was he thinking?! No, he would not destroy it. This ring held great power, the ability to control people, to bring death to their enemies and to make sure his lands would be safe from all that would do them harm. He lost his father, brother and even his sons among hundreds of his people to help protect Middle Earth. The Ring would be an heirloom to his children and their children. Looking up at the elf lord standing next to him he sneered, "No. I will not destroy it, it is mine, my own. It is... precious to me." Turning he started walking away.

Elrond had known in his heart that Isildur would do this even though he had hoped he wouldn't. He could not allow him to take this ring with him and without realizing what he was doing he reached out and grabbed him. "I will not allow you to take this ring Isildur. One way or another it will be destroyed, whether by your hand or mine. Now throw it in, don't be a fool!" he yelled out, his own voice sounding harsh to his own ears.

"I will not destroy it. This ring will protect my people. It will avenge my father! Think of the power we will have wielding this!" Isildur cried, trying in vain to free himself from Elrond's grasp.

"Listen to yourself, you are not yourself! This ring will destroy you and all that you love. Now throw it into the fire!"

Isildur refused, clasping it tighter while attempting to break free from the elf's grasp. Elrond knew that it was futile trying to reason with him as he was now too far gone. The only way to rid Isildur of the Ring was to throw both over the edge. He would not touch the One Ring himself; for who knew the temptation it would bring, to bear two rings of power. However, Elrond didn't want to have to kill him so he tried one last time to reason with him, "Isildur please listen to reason, the Ring must be destroyed. You are not yourself. Do not let it twist your mind!" Isildur did not listen and only fought harder to be let loose.

Soon the two were entangled limb in limb in a dance of death. Isildur had succumbed to the power of the Ring, and would do anything to keep it; even if it meant killing Elrond, and Elrond would do anything to free Middle Earth from the last grasp of Sauron; including sacrificing Isildur.

As they fought on, the Ring gained power and strength as it fed off the combatants, who were friends and allies only a mere hour ago. Elrond could feel himself getting dangerously closer to the edge and knew that if he didn't stop this madness he would die and Isildur would take the Ring for his own. As he felt his foot beginning to slip, Elrond took a risk and with one final struggle he managed to turn himself around and shoved Isildur over the edge. Elrond watched as both the Ring and its bearer fell to their death in the fiery pits below. "I am sorry, but I had no other choice my friend," he whispered before he turned and walked out of the cavern to regroup with the others.

Making his way slowly down Mount Doom, Elrond felt many emotions raging through his mind. Anger, sadness and guilt. Anger at Sauron for all his destruction, the deceit, the evil that he had caused. Sadness at all the death that had been dealt that day all for the sake of peace. He had lost friend and kin; including his king and sworn brother Gil-galad and the former king of Arnor and Gondor, Elendil, and now Isildur. Guilt for the death of Isildur at his own hands. Elrond told himself he had tried everything he could to free his friend from the clutches of the One Ring; but alas it had not been enough and he was left with no other choice but to destroy both. As he reached the bottom he saw many faces looking at him with a mixture of concern and confusion for they had seen Isildur follow Elrond moments before.

Círdan approached him and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Where is Isildur Elrond?"

Not even bothering to look back at Círdan, Elrond's voice was cold, emotionless, in shock. "He fell into the chasm along with the One Ring."

Círdan lowered his eyes. Without even looking into Elrond's eyes he knew what had transpired between the two and he felt his heart sink for his friend. "You did what you had to do. The Ring would have destroyed him in the end, no matter what, and then Middle Earth would eventually be faced with the tyranny of Sauron once again."

Not responding, Elrond only nodded his head as he walked off to tend to the wounded. As he began the long process of tending the injured he knew it would be years if not longer before he would ever be rid of the guilt he harbored deep inside of himself. For the thought weighed heavy on his mind; in the end, was he any better than the rest of the kinslayers?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Eldhoron who Roleplayed this chapter with me, I was able to get a second chapter. Thank you, El, you are the best and I had a lot of fun with this
> 
> All non-recognizable characters belong to Eldhoron and myself

Iondir watched the entire exchange between the two elven lords. So, Isildur King was dead, but how had that occurred? He thought he had heard something about his lord falling into the fiery chasm. Suddenly, a stab of suspicion shot through Iondir as he pondered about that, while still watching Lord Elrond closely. The elf lord was clearly grieved, but how does one just "fall into the fiery pit"? It just didn't make sense.

All around him, several other men were mumbling amongst themselves, some angrily others remorsefully. They were clearly not happy about what had happened knowing that soon questions would start surfacing. Iondir followed the elf with his eyes as Elrond went forth into the masses to begin to treat the many wounded.

The Gondorian soldier watched the elf go... so engrossed in watching the distressed elf lord he hadn't heard someone approach him until he felt a rough hand grip his shoulder. Jumping slightly, Iondir turned to face the newcomer. He immediately recognized him as an officer in the twenty second regime named, Duranthir. "What do you think happened?" His voice was level but his gaze was full of conflict.

Iondir turned back to watch for Elrond once again – there. He found him amongst the severely wounded. "I do not know, but I will find out," Iondir spoke with determination. He wanted to know the truth as well and he would find out. No one just fell into a chasm.

Elrond had been too preoccupied with his own thoughts and guilt, that he failed to notice Iondir staring at him suspiciously. While he was busy treating a critically injured man he heard the heavy sound of footsteps come up behind him and stop. Elrond instantly stopped what he was doing and turned slowly to see steel grey eyes piercing his.

"Lord Elrond." The raven-haired ellon turned to face the soldier. Behind him, Iondir felt a group of several other men forming behind him, led by Duranthir. Meeting Elrond's gaze he decided to just lance the boil and ask. He knew exactly what every other man was thinking and wondering. "What happened to our king?" he asked speaking those thoughts into the dry, ashen air.

He tried to keep the accusation out of his voice but it was near impossible. His captain and friend was dead and a small hint of anger was beginning to ignite within him. Iondir gazed at Elrond as he waited for his response.

Elrond frowned sighing heavily. He should have known something like this would happen. One just did not go up with the king of Gondor and then come down alone. It was folly. Unable to hold the young Gondorian's gaze any longer he turned continuing to work on the young mortal man. What should he tell them? Would they even believe him if he told the truth? Deciding that it would be best to keep it short Elrond told them his account of what happened.

"I took Isildur up to the cracks of Mount Doom to destroy the One Ring. By the time we arrived, the Ring had taken hold of Isildur, poisoning his mind and he refused to destroy it. An argument erupted and he attacked me. In self-defense, I fought back and he fell to his death carrying with him the Ring." When he finished speaking he had the sinking feeling that most of them would not believe him.

Iondir crossed his arms when the elf turned away from him. Almost feeling a growl escape his throat, he listened quietly for the elf to tell his tale.

As Elrond spoke, the man tried his best to keep an open mind and give Elrond the benefit of the doubt. After all, he was the herald of the fallen Noldo king and was respected by most. The men behind him, however would not. Iondir could feel the tension rising as the lord mentioned Isildur, their captain and king, succumbing to the call of the ring. Iondir knew how powerful the ring was but the thought of their lord giving in to the power of it was very hard to digest. It couldn't have been that way... the elf lord finished his tale and continued working on the wounded soldier below him. He wouldn't even look at them.

After a moment of silence one man spoke up from the crowd. "Isildur would not have succumbed to the Ring!"

Another chimed in "our King was strong."

"The blood of Gondor does not lead astray half elf!" cried another.

Iondir did not turn to face the men who had spoken up, but instead continued to bear down on the hunched down elf with his gaze. "Truly not, you must be mistaken; our king could not have succumbed."

Elrond knew deep inside that they would not believe him. He told himself to keep his cool but when he heard them call him a liar he could feel the heat rise in him and his eyes flashed with anger. Dropping what he was doing he stood up to his full height and faced the men who hours before, fought side by side as friends and brothers. "You dare to question my honor mortal?! Do you honestly think for a minute that I would murder one of my own brother's kin in cold blood after all the innocent blood that was already spilled on account of that accursed ring?! What would any of you have done in my place had you been there? I tell you now that if you had of been there Isildur would not have recognized you and would have attacked you as well to keep that ring for his own!"

In the distance, Elrond saw several elves walk over to where the confrontation was taking place. Among them were Glorfindel and Círdan looking at one another wondering if they should step in before things spiraled any more out of control.

By now men were getting rowdy... "Liar! Half breed!" Iondir heard several call out. The young adan looked up into the elf lord's eyes. Watching them flash, he was reminded of all the tales he had heard of the wrath of the immortals...

"What happened to the Ring?!" someone asked in a loud voice from the back.

"Yes, where is it?!" another spoke up.

"Lord Elrond succumbed and murdered the king! He took it!" That turned Iondir around to face the mob. These men were weary with exhaustion and confusion. He knew Lord Elrond would not have murdered or taken the ring. Would he? He glanced back at the half elf and met his gaze searching for any sign of deceit but found none. It was sincere...

The men were antagonizing the entire ordeal. They were yelling, speaking loudly with one another. This was not good, if things were not contained and soon, they would have a riot and possibly another war on hand.

"Lord Elrond would not have taken the ring," Iondir said finally. He was sure of that for why would Elrond have come down as he had? He struggled to keep his voice even.

The men were not listening and growing even more angry. Turning around he faced Elrond. "Where is it?" he demanded. He needed to know.

Lord Elrond turned to Iondir a sad, tired look appearing on his face. "The Ring fell into the fire along with your king. If you do not believe me, you may search me. I give you my word that I did all I could to save your king from the lure of the Ring. I never wanted him to meet his death." Elrond's voice trembled with exhaustion, his eyes holding unimaginable pain and guilt.

Iondir no longer felt any doubt in his mind as to whether Isildur's blood was unjustly staining the elf lord's hands. The grief and pain obvious in Elrond's eyes, burdening the elder's face was enough to cast aside any further doubts. Isildur had succumbed and Elrond was forced to kill him. The line of Kings was over. Iondir now only wished his countrymen could see the genuineness in Elrond's eyes. Keeping himself between the dark-haired lord and the growing mass of Gondorian soldiers a riot threatened to break out.

"Search him, Iondir!" One scruffy man in the front of the pack shouted… others agreed to the proposal.

Iondir shook his head. "I will not search him. He is sincere, I have plainly seen that."

Men's eyes flashed as they began to jostle forward. "It is PLAIN that he is using the ring on you, Iondir!"

"Find it!" said a large man with gleaming, mad eyes. He violently pushed forward barreling towards Elrond and Iondir.

Elrond just stood planted where he was. He had no intentions of even trying to defend himself as he watched the large Gondorian soldier charge him. He was tired of fighting and when he thought about it, why should he defend himself after what he did, even if it was self-defense and the only way to prevent evil from returning.

In his mind, he had no right to live. In fact, he had no doubt in his mind that this man would probably kill him when he searched him for the Ring. He was grateful that Iondir believed him, but what difference could one man make in a crowd of dozens who no matter what was said would never believe him that he had not taken the Ring nor killed Isildur out of malice? As Elrond braced himself for the impact out of nowhere Lords Glorfindel and Círdan threw themselves in front of Elrond with their swords drawn halting the burly man from attacking their Captain and friend.

The raging man stopped short of impaling himself on the elven lords' blades. Straightening himself up taller the hint of insanity lifted somewhat as he gazed steadfastly at the tall elves. "Get out of my way," he growled low in his throat.

Glorfindel glared at the man, showing just a hint of the power that was bestowed upon him by the Valar. "Unless you wish to be the next victim and find yourself on the receiving end of my blade, I suggest you watch your tone and depart from here at once," he spat. "You will by no means come any closer to Lord Elrond nor will you touch him."

The tall man stood dead on in defiance of the elf for a moment longer. "Filthy elf! I'll kill him instead for the murder of my king!" He launched himself forward at the golden-haired warrior, seizing the blade with his bare hands and wrenching it down into the dark, ashen ground.

Glorfindel didn't lose his composure for a second as the man proceeded to attack him. In one swift movement, the golden-haired warrior brought up his blade and thrust it through the soldier's gut. The man stunned, looked up into Glorfindel's eyes as the last of his life drained from his own and he slid to the ground with a thud.

The other men stood stock still watching with pale faces, as their comrade landed in a heap on the ground. Iondir couldn't take his eyes off this mighty elven warrior. His lightning fast movements had startled him, though he knew the large man would not have been reasoned with. He drew in a sharp breath and waited for the silence to be broken.

Wiping his blade clean, Glorfindel looked amongst the men who were motionless, staring at their fallen friend. Knowing that if something was not done soon, they would be in another war. Looking at Círdan, he motioned towards Elrond who was in a state of shock. They both knew that he was despairing from both grief and guilt. Círdan realized he had to get his friend out of here and to safer grounds. Nodding once to Glorfindel, he gently took hold of the raven-haired elf and led him away from the crowd leaving Glorfindel to deal with the men.

When the two elves were gone, Glorfindel spoke, breaking the silence of the crowd instantly with his resonate voice. "Now, if you are all done with your blood thirsty actions, you will all leave here and return to your posts. We did not spend seven long years fighting side by side, losing thousands of our friends and family just for you to accuse Lord Elrond, of maliciously killing your king to seize the ring for himself. If any of you still wish to continue your quest to lay hands on him and search him, you can join your fallen comrade," he said softly growling pointing to the dead soldier on the ground.

Many of the men shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the elf lord's gaze. They did not need any more examples to show them that he would not allow anyone to pass. Eventually they dispersed save a couple stragglers who finally moved away after a few more moments. Iondir himself did not know what to do. He was still partly in shock at the death of that man… looking up into Glorfindel's fiery blue eyes Iondir turned to face him.

He knew that fear shone in his own eyes, but there was no way of hiding it from the elf… he lowered his head, feeling like he should apologize. "I'm sorry for brining that rabble up..." he started stumbling to find the right words.

Glorfindel was not sure whether to be cross with Iondir or not. Although he had believed Elrond when he told them he did not take the ring for himself, none of this would have happened if Iondir hadn't of cornered him demanding to know what happened. Deciding that it was not worth getting more upset about, he sighed tiredly before he spoke. "It is alright Iondir. Leave and go to your tent and rest. Tomorrow, we will decide on the next course of action. Círdan and myself will stay with Elrond for I do not wish to risk any harm to him."

Iondir, bowed, starting to walk. Stopping a few steps later Iondir couldn't help but worry about the dark haired ellon. He knew that elves could fade from grief and it was apparent that Elrond was filled with it. "He will be okay, won't he?"

Glorfindel didn't know. Frowning, he shook his head, "I do not know. Only time will tell, but it will be a long and hard healing process and even I cannot see what the future will hold for him."

Iondir felt a pain in his heart for the Lord of Imladris. Not only did he have to deal with the loss of his best friend and king, but he had to deal with the death of Isildur by his own hands.  _No one should have to deal with so much_ , he thought to himself sadly as he began his walk to his own tent to retire for the night.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank Eldhoron for helping by Roleplaying the first half.
> 
> I do not own Dagnir, he was created by Eldhoron

Dagnir, now the first in command of the armies of Gondor, sat back in an ornate wood chair as the elf lords went over the pleasantries of such a meeting. It was the morning following the riot and the grey warrior was clearly not happy. He did not think many of the men still thought that Lord Elrond had kept the Ring. Indeed, he was grieved that the king was dead but he would not let his grief blind him into false accusations.

Glancing at the dark-haired Lord of Imladris, Dagnir noticed that the elf did not look good. Elrond had obviously not slept at all and guilt clearly weighed on the elf's shoulders. They were to be going over what was to happen now that the war was over and most importantly, though Elrond did not know it, whether the healer's healing expertise was needed or if it would be best he left the camp, lest more riots broke out.

Glorfindel was now expounding on the matters that they were to be going over in the long session planned. Finally, he got to the meat of the matter at the end of the list. "And we will also be deciding whether you, Elrond… should go to Rivendell with a group of wounded."

Elrond was beyond exhausted. He hadn't slept, nor ate since the previous day's events. He felt weak, and heavy of heart. If one were to look at him, they would be surprised to find he was an elf. Círdan had wanted to give him a sedative to make him sleep but Elrond felt that would be too precious to waste on him. No, he felt he should suffer. The elf lord was also beginning to tire of both Glorfindel and Círdan's constant watching him as if they were to take their eyes off him, he would do something stupid, but they had insisted that they would stay.

As the meeting came to a close, he jerked his head up in disbelief when Glorfindel suggested that he should possibly return to Imladris with a group of wounded. Of course, he should stay here, who else had healing knowledge that surpassed his? His place was among the wounded here, not being carted off! "My place is here with the injured, Glorfindel. I will stay," he said his eyes narrowing.

Glorfindel sighed. He knew Elrond would put up a fight. He was too much like his father and his grandmother… stubborn to the hilt. "My Lord Elrond, with all due respect, you are in no shape to care for the wounded. You are exhausted, and you are filled with guilt and despair beyond measure, which puts your patients at risk. Not only that, but your life is at stake among these men. Although a few of them believe you did nothing wrong including Dagnir and Iondir, the majority would rather see you hang for the death of their king. No, I think it best you return home and rest. There will be plenty of injured to look after back in Imladris."

Dagnir watched Elrond's reaction and the way he immediately jumped against the proposal. Of course, the elf would have reacted that way. Dagnir knew he himself would have had a similar response, but Glorfindel was right, the elf lord's state was going to prove detrimental to all involved.

"Glorfindel is correct, my Lord. There are few in my ranks that believe your entire story. The situation is volatile to say the least. The only reason why you have not been ripped apart is that they heed my orders."

Elrond started to object but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around he saw Círdan there, his sad eyes gleaming. "My friend, they are right. I know you want to stay, but you are in no position to help anyone. There will be many other times when your abilities as a healer will be needed, but right now is not one of them. Return home and heal. If not for yourself then do it for Gil-galad and your wife Lady Celebrían."

Celebrían... No doubt she would be heartbroken if anything were to happen to him. He had promised her before he departed that he would return home to her where they would then start a family of their own.

Then there was Gil-galad. What would he have said if he were alive right now? Chuckling on the inside, he knew exactly what he would have done. He would have tied him up and sent him back kicking and screaming. Closing his eyes in defeat, he nodded his head, "Very well, I will do it for them." Sitting down he laid his head in his hands as the meeting came to a close.

* * *

 

Later that day, Elrond found himself with the small group that was to return to Imladris. It had also been decided that Lord Glorfindel would return with him as Elrond's health was slowly deteriorating. He was refusing to eat, he had not yet slept and the light in his eyes was diminishing.

Elrond didn't need to wonder what was happening nor did those closest to him. It was obvious. He was fading. The horrors and pain from having to deal with the long years of war mixed with deep guilt of what had transpired between him and Isildur had turned out to be too much for him. His only hope of living was waiting back in Rivendell for him. Glorfindel only hoped that his friend would be able to find the strength to live long enough until they got home.

When all the wounded had been situated and all their provisions were taken care of, Glorfindel and Elrond said their goodbyes to Lord Círdan and the few men who had not turned against Elrond. "Farewell, may Tulkas give you strength," Círdan said embracing Elrond one final time. Elrond gave a weak smile and with a nod of his head, the company rode out from the war ravished land making all speed back to Rivendell.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Elrond woke from another night terror, his eyes darting to and fro as he sat bolt right in his bed. Trying to control his breathing, he looked around the room trying to remember where he was. Looking down next to him still sleeping was his wife Celebrían.  _Home, I am home._  He thought to himself as he felt his heart slow down to a more normal rhythm.

When would he stop having these night terrors? It had been nearly two months since his return from Mordor and he still continued to be haunted by the death of Isildur at his hands. Glorfindel had assured him that the dreams would stop eventually, yet he was starting to doubt they ever would cease.

Upon returning home, Elrond was almost beyond saving as he nearly succumbed to the guilt and despair that threatened to suffocate him. When Celebrían had reached him, she could hardly believe that the elf lord lying before her was her husband. Erestor had to hold her up for she could barely stand. Taking a cold hand in hers, her heart nearly shattered. "Elrond, please don't leave me. Not now, you promised me you would return home to me," she cried her tears falling freely on her husband's face.

Glorfindel had taken him to their room where Celebrían had slowly nursed Elrond back to health with the help of their closest friends. How they had managed to bring him back, Elrond still didn't know. Slowly, he started eating again and the coldness had mostly left but the guilt and heaviness of heart had stubbornly failed to leave.

As the days turned into weeks, the lord of Rivendell tried to resume his daily duties, even convincing most around him that he was fine. Yet night after night he would wake up nearly screaming as he relived those final moments in the cavern of Mount Doom, watching his kin fall to his death, his eyes looking up at him in disbelief.

Last night had been no different. Looking down at his still sleeping wife, he felt deep remorse for her. He couldn't keep up the façade that he was alright. Slowly getting out from bed, he walked over to his desk, he sat down and took a piece of paper and a quill out. He knew what he had to do. He needed to end this torment once and for all. Dipping his quill into the black ink, he wrote a letter to his beloved.

_My dearest Celebrían,_

_I will never be the husband you need me to be, not while I still continue to be haunted by these dreams. No longer can I continue lying to you that I am alright. It is not fair to you. For weeks now, I have been thinking of how I can end this, how I can make things right. Now I know, I must end my life. There is no other way. As long as I live, I will be tormented by what I did. Please do not blame yourself, you did all you could as did Glorfindel and Erestor. When I am gone, please do not mourn for me. I only want for you to be happy. I will always love you and know that we will be together again._

_Your loving husband,_

_Elrond_

Setting the note on his pillow next to Celebrían, Elrond silently placed a kiss on her forehead. Walking out of his room, he padded down the halls making no sound as he headed to the stables. Fortunately for him, he did not pass any other elves for he knew if he did, they would ask questions as to where he was going at this hour in his night clothes.

When he got to the stables, he took the first horse he found. Nudging it softly, he headed towards the Bruinen where he would meet his end in a watery grave.

* * *

 

Celebrían awoke with a start panic rising in her. Something was wrong, very wrong. Looking around, she noticed she was alone. Where was Elrond? It was still dark outside yet he was not in bed nor in their room. "Elrond?" she called out. Receiving no answer, she frantically searched in their suite but she found no trace of him. Coming back to their room, her eyes landed on a sheet of paper on Elrond's pillow. Picking it up, she read the letter her eyes widening with fear. "Oh, Valar Elrond, what have you done?" she said rushing out the room, paper in hand screaming out for help.

"Glorfindel, Erestor! Please, help!"

Within moments, two bedraggled elves came rushing out of their rooms their swords drawn. Not seeing any danger, they lowered their weapons. "Lady Celebrían what is it? We heard you scream." Erestor said still looking around for any hidden threat.

Celebrían shook as she handed the letter to them. "It's Elrond, he is going to try and end his life. I can't find him anywhere."

When Glorfindel and Erestor finished reading the letter, they paled. "I knew that he was only putting on a front when he said he was alright. I should have known better then to believe him," Glorfindel stated.

"We must find him, it may not be too late. Celebrían, can you feel him through your bond?" Erestor asked.

Closing her eyes, Celebrían concentrated with all her might on her husband. As she suspected, he had all but closed it, yet she could feel a slight spark. Focusing on that she attempted to see if he was still within Imladris. "Barely, he has tried to close the bond, but I can feel a hint of him. He no longer is inside Imladris."

"The stables! He must have taken a horse and fled." Glorfindel paced back and forth trying desperately to think if where he could have gone. Suddenly, he stopped, his hands falling to his side. "I know where he went. The river! He is going to drown himself!"

Celebrían gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "No, please, you must go and find him!"

The two elf lords looked at one another. Not even bothering to put riding clothes or boots on, they fled down the halls towards the stables leaving Celebrían behind praying that they would find him in time. "Please hold on just a little longer my love."

* * *

 

Not a word was spoken between the two elf lords as they pushed their horses on towards the river. With no clue to exactly where Elrond could have gone, they could only hope they were going in the right direction. Both of them cursed themselves for not seeing the signs earlier that their lord and friend was still suffering. If they were too late, they would never forgive themselves.

The last of the stars were just beginning to sink beyond the horizon when Glorfindel pulled his horse to a stop. "Over there!" he exclaimed pointing his finger towards a figure a little way out.

Looking to where his friend was pointing, he paled. For their lying face down in the water was Elrond. Not wasting another moment, the put their horses in a trot and quickly were by his side in a matter of seconds. Dismounting, both elves rushed over to Elrond. Glorfindel turned him over on his back afraid of what he would find. Erestor was beside himself with worry, for Elrond appeared to not be breathing, his eyes closed, lips blue and skin pale.

"Is he dead?" Erestor asked so softly, that he had to strain to hear himself.

Glorfindel laid his head to his friend's chest and listened closely for any sign of life. After what seemed like ages but in reality, was only a moment, Glorfindel sighed in relief. "He is alive, barely, but he lives. We must have arrived just as he tried to drown himself."

"Thank the Valar," Erestor said looking up to the heavens.

"We must hurry and get him back to Imladris. In our hurry, we failed to bring blankets and he chills quickly."

Nodding in agreement the two of them mounted their steeds with Elrond sitting in front of Glorfindel. "Hang on my friend, we are going to get you back home. Do not even think of leaving us," he whispered to him, and in a blink of an eye, they raced back to Imladris.

* * *

 

Elrond moaned his eyes starting to flutter open. Where was he? Surely this was not Mandos Halls? If it was, why was he still in pain?

"Open your eyes my love, it is I, Celebrían."

Celebrían? No, it can't be. She was still in Imladris where he left her, but when his vision cleared, sure enough there in front of him was his wife, which meant that he was still alive himself. "Why, did you come for me? Why couldn't you just let me go?" he said his voice breaking.

Celebrían took his hands in hers and squeezed them. "Because I love you, Erestor loves you, Glorfindel loves you. You are wanted, and if you died, so many people would be heart-broken."

"No, I am not worth loving. Not after what I did." Elrond couldn't understand how they could still think he was worth loving after he had done so many awful things. After he had killed…

"But you are, Elrond. Look at me," she said lifting his chin towards her, "you had no choice in what you did. If you had not of acted, Sauron would have returned and none of us would be safe. You saved thousands if not millions of innocent people."

Elrond looked away still unable to meet her gaze. "I don't know how to move on from this guilt though."

Smiling she caressed his cheek. "Then let us help you. Let Erestor, Glorfindel, myself… and our children help you."

Elrond's eyes flew back to see his wife smiling at him. "Children? You mean, that you are…"

"Yes, I am carrying your children. In about 10 months we will have sons."

"But how do you know this?" he asked trying to sit up.

"Because, I felt them. Here, let me show you," she said taking his hand and placing it on her belly. "There, can you feel them?"

Closing his eye, Elrond concentrated until he felt a small flutter and then another one. Opening his eyes, he looked up at Celebrían and for the first time he smiled a true smile. "I felt them… our sons."

Celebrían hugged Elrond hoping beyond hope that he would want to hold on for their children. "Please tell me that you will stay."

Swallowing a lump, Elrond wanted so bad to say no, but when he saw the look in her eyes and looked down at her stomach where their children were growing… for the first time since the war, he felt a reason to hold on. No, he would not take the cowards way out. He would stay and fight to be rid of all the guilt he was harboring. Looking back at his wife, he smiled. "Yes, my love, I will stay."

_Epilogue_

_10 months later_

"Aren't they beautiful Elrond?"

As he looked down upon two identical bundles sleeping in his arms, Elrond felt pride and love well up deep inside of him. "They are indeed." Placing a kiss on both their heads he felt tears of happiness fall from his eyes. "Welcome to your home Elladan and Elrohir."


End file.
